You and Me, Plus Two?: Serenade
by C-Wolfeh
Summary: A holiday gift for a friend! She requested a Prowl/Jazz sidestory and we were more than happy to deliver! We hope you enjoy! Slash, M/M
1. The Dirty Trick

**Title:** You and Me...Plus Two?: Serenade**  
Chapter: **1/?**  
Authors:** CWolfeh and Lycole**  
Rating:** PG**  
Series:** Transformers (Mostly G1 based with a hint of IDW)**  
Characters:** Prowl, Jazz**  
Warnings:** Nothing at current. :**  
Summary:** It was quite a dirty trick.**  
Author's Notes:**  
Greetings all! =D Been awhile since we posted something from the YaMPT universe but we've been planning a lot of things out in our absence from posting so I promise there will be a lot more on the way! But! Let's focus on this fic shall we? The oh so wonderful glacierSCIENCE and I exchanged holiday requests with one another and this was hers:

A Prowl and Jazz sidefic from "You and Me...Plus Two?"

And who are we to deny her of something that fun? x3 Well, the idea has spawned into a multi-chaptered fic so here is your first taste of our this holiday gift to a real sweetheart!

Comments and critique are love! And we hope you enjoy!

-

One would think, in a war against the last of your race on a far-distant planet, that paperwork would be the last thing on the minds of the soldiers. This was not true with the Autobots, no matter how much their leader might wish it were.

It was the subject of paperwork that brought the second officer to the office door of the firsts. A light, rhythmic rap of metallic knuckles was heard, and Jazz waited only a moment before he entered, uninterested whether or not Prowl actually cared for his presence. In his servos was a stack of datapads.

"Hey, I got Prime to finish the daily reports from the last few months. They need your approval," He informed the other, setting the nearly towering stack on the surface of his desk.

Glancing up from the datapads he had been looking over, Prowl's expression was unreadable, as always, optic-ridge quirking just a touch as he glanced from the 'new arrivals' to Jazz himself.

"...I am half tempted to inquire as to how you got him to finish them but, as some would say, I will not look a gift horse in the mouth," he commented, digits tapping a few things on the datapad he had been working on before he set it aside and reached for the new stack. "Thank you."

"You gonna do 'em now?" the other inquired casually, glancing about the room for a seat.

"...That was the plan, yes," Prowl said as he tossed a glance at Jazz, optics flickering slightly. "Is there something else I can assist you with?"

"Nah, just thought I'd stick around and wait, since I have to file them anyhow," He responded with a slight shrug as he pulled a seat from the corner of the office to sit before the desk. One elbow joint was propped up on the edge of the metal surface, his chin resting in his palm as he watched the logi-bot work.

If he was annoyed with the sudden guest he found himself with, Prowl didn't let it show.

"Fair enough," was the reply before he focused on the datapads, easily blocking out the presence of the other mech as he began to read and sign them, optics drifting over the contents as his digits tapped here and there. Jazz was never one to be ignored or blocked out though; he knew how to get anyone's attention.

"So. Femmes or mechs?"

There was a slight pause in the logi-bot's motions and a distinct marring of his expression though he didn't look up.

"Excuse me?"

"I've just been wondering lately, with Ratchet and Wheeljack hooking up and a few others," he shrugged, leaning back in his seat now. "We've been working together for vorns, now could be a good time to actually learn about each other."

"....You see this as an appropriate work conversation?" Prowl said with a full-on frown now, optics not moving quite as diligently over the contents of the datapads now...

Almost as if he was a bit thrown off.

"Maybe not, but I don't think our boss is gonna reprimand us for it." a smirk lit his face a touch at the thought of Prime learning what they were talking about. He also imagined the commander sitting down to have gossip time with them.

"So which is it? Femmes or mechs? Or maybe both?"

Digits halted as Prowl tensed very faintly, optics snapping up to look at Jazz as he gave the other a reprimanding sort of glare.

"I am busy, Jazz, and I would very much appreciate being left alone while I finished going over these. I will contact you when I am finished." Jazz sighed, optics rolling behind his visor.

"No need to get touchy. I'll share first. I like both. They're both so different... Femmes are curvaceous, gentle, small and easy to hold on to... But mechs, they're strong, they understand without words, we're on the level, you know?"

It was quite clear to the logi-bot that Jazz was not getting the hint, an annoyed sigh slipping through his vents as he steeled himself, optics dropping back to the datapads as he began to go over them again in an attempt to block out the chatterbox. Since the signal was given that he wasn't going to get a violent reaction, Jazz pressed on.

"Of course, there are some curvy mechs, and there are some hardcore femmes, but you find what you like. The advantage to mechs is that you don't have to dote on them. You show interest, continue affection through touches or glances, small actions... femmes like to hear you say it all the time, public displays of affection, material tokens of love, sweet nothings in their audios... Gets kinda complicated," he frowned a touch, glancing off to the side in thought.

"Complicated?" Prowl said before he could stop himself, optics offlining briefly as he mentally cursed himself for admitting he was paying attention..considering he himself hadn't even realized he was.

"Of course. You get a femme the wrong thing and she gets offended." It took all the control Jazz had not to let the smile of triumph show on his face when Prowl showed his interest.

By that point in the conversation Prowl's digits were tapping the datapads in an almost absent minded sort of way, the logi-bot not really even reading anymore as he made haste to get them finished so Jazz could get out.

Something about the conversation just had him all shades of uncomfortable.

"...Of course."

"Mechs don't care, or if they do they don't let it show," he continued. "At least in my experience."

A noise escaped the logi-bot as he slid another datapad off the pile and in the next moment reached for another, and then another, trying to take his time and make it look good but failing miserably at the same time.

"Sounds like you have quite a lot of experience."

...Why couldn't he just stop talking?

"Not as much as you'd think. I just like analyzing interactions," he replied casually. "What about you?"

"I would rather not speak of my time outside of work," came the curt reply, Prowl reaching for yet another datapad.

"Between friends, Prowl," Jazz encouraged.

There was a brief pause in the white mech's actions as he shot Jazz a look.

"At current, I am working therefore this is a work environment."

"But you're always working, so we're going to call this a casual work environment and let it slide."

"No, we are not," he said flatly, resuming his work, almost done with the stack.

Thankfully.

"Then just answer the original question, and we'll leave it at that."

Digits curling slightly, and only briefly, Prowl let out a push of air through his vents as his optics offlined in a moment of concentration, the logi-bot gathering himself before allowing his optics to come back on, the mech diligently going back to work.

"What I prefer is my business and mine alone. Now if you would please refrain from making any further comments, I am almost finished."

Jazz was silent for a moment, watching what Prowl was doing carefully from behind his visor.

"Why don't you ever open up?" he asked finally, leaning forward again. "What would it hurt to let someone in?"

"I have my work, that is enough for me."

"Your work can't appreciate you."

"Why do you care?" Prowl said rather suddenly and sharply for that matter, setting the second to last datapad aside before pausing once more, fixing Jazz with an irritated look.

The sudden question made Jazz pause, but not for long. "Because we're comrades and friends. Aren't we?"

"We are comrades, yes, but as I said before this entire conversation is not what I would consider proper for a work environment." There was a distinct note of anger lingering in the usually collected bot's voice as he reached for the last datapad, optics scanning over it quickly before he tapped a few things.

"There. I have looked them over. You can go now."

The thought occurred to Jazz that he should abandon his scheme then and there and try again another day. It was seriously weighing in his processor, but then he remembered that no wasn't an option, and he wasn't a quitter.

"And you can come with me."

"Excuse me?"

Jazz thumbed down a bit in the stack and pulled out the third to last datapad, presenting it to Prowl. "This is yours signature, right?"

Prowl's frown deepened as he looked at the datapad, optics skimming over it as he actually read it this time and when he did..

His optics snapped up to look at Jazz, an expression that was a mix of shock and annoyance appearing on his faceplate.

"You..that..."

"You signed. That means you agreed," Jazz grinned, making no effort to hide his pleasure in his victory.

Oh was Prowl fuming.

"I have things I need to do, I do not have time to go out drinking with you," he said in a matter-of-factly type tone.

"Oh come on, a few drinks with me won't kill you, Prowl," Jazz insisted boredly. "Besides, you already agreed, and you know well enough that I won't leave you be until you come. In fact, I might get Prime in on it if you keep protesting."

Prowl tensed a bit at the mention of Prime; that was honestly the last thing he wanted. A long moment passed as he stared at the other mech, expression going blank as his optics narrowed just a bit, a clear sign he was thinking about something...

"...Fine," he finally ground out, looking defeated but trying to keep up an appearance. "A_ few_ drinks, that is it."

A gentle touch on his forearm would bring Prowl's attention to the other bot's face, where he would find a soft, reassuring smile.

"Relax. It'll be fun." The logi-bot's first reaction was to pull away but something made him pause, if only briefly, as his gaze met Jazz's.

"So you say," Prowl murmured in response as he pushed his seat back and stood, breaking the contact. "After you."


	2. Upon waking

**Title:** You and Me...Plus Two?: Serenade**  
Chapter:** 2/?**  
Authors:** CWolfeh and Cloud**  
Beta:** Chickenperson52 LJ**  
Rating:** PG**  
Series:** Transformers (Mostly G1 based with a hint of IDW)**  
Characters:** Prowl, Jazz**  
Warnings:** Slashy slash of course~**  
Summary:** What had they done?**  
Author's Notes:**  
GAH. Sorry this took so long to get done! I've just been so out of it as of late creativity wise that I just couldn't find a good way to go about doing this. : But here it is finally! The next installment of Serenade! =D

This chapter was written by me, Wolfeh, but a lot of my inspiration for it came from Lumi all the same. :3 Once again, this is all apart of the gift-story that we're working on for GalcierSCIENCE and I hope you enjoy it my dear!

Comments are love!

-

The sky outside was just beginning to lighten as inside a small apartment, a pair of optics unshuttered and came to life with a soft, hazy blue glow. It took a moment for the owner of the optics to fully come online, the lingering effects of recharge affecting his processor to the point that coherent thought was impossible. When he finally awoke though, the first thing Prowl realized was that he was not alone and that in itself was not normal by any means. His optics flickered a bit, brightening as the tactician became even more aware and slowly glanced at his side.

Jazz.

It was in that moment that Prowl realized what it all meant. Why he was there with Jazz and why he felt so..so content for once.

They had interfaced.

Stiffening almost immediately, the mech had all intentions of getting up off the berth and leaving right then and there without a second thought. He was disgusted with himself, with the bot beside him; he had lost control of himself last night and done something that he would never normally do. Prowl never got close to anyone, let alone got himself trashed on high grade and slept with a fellow soldier. Anger came to him before anything else, hands curling into light fists as he tore his gaze away from Jazz, turning his glare on the window as a frustrated rush of air escaped his vents. But, as much as he tried, the tactician was unable to be angry for long. Other emotions began to creep in, despite his attempts to block all of them out; the anger and frustration were mixed with a sense of satisfaction, a relaxed, calm feeling that Prowl was completely unfamiliar with.

When was the last time he had been relaxed?

He glanced at Jazz again out of the corner of his optics, snorting to himself as a stray thought crossed through his processor.

_[Apparently last night..]_

Shaking his head to dismiss that insane notion, Prowl sat up, careful not to disturb the saboteur as he swung his legs over the side of the berth and steadied himself with his hands on the edge. His optics shuttered as he tapped into the memory files from the night before in an attempt to piece it all together.

They had gone to the mess hall which had, thankfully, been rather empty.

He had been uninterested in drinking at first, but Jazz had talked him into having one..

And one turned into two, then three, then four..

It was late when they finally left, both of them lost in the haze of the high grade.

_"Your quarters or mine?" Jazz had purred, running his digits over the tactician's chestplate, grinning as he gained a tremble from the other mech._

_"Either," had been the heated reply before Prowl caught the other in a kiss, not in the mood for anymore words._

The memory file was closed off, and Prowl let out a frustrated noise as more disgust rose inside him. The thought of him acting like that just...The disgust he was feeling suddenly began to change as he glanced over his shoulder to Jazz, the emotions twisting into blame; blame aimed at Jazz only. Once more his anger returned as he tried to remember what else had gone on that night, tried to remember how much Jazz had actually had, if any at all. Had it all been a game for the saboteur? Had he just pretended to drink just so he could get Prowl into berth and use it as leverage later? Had he made a bet with someone? Was that why he had done it?

A thousand and one different scenarios began to play through the ever-logical bot's processor, but at the same time, he knew that everything he was thinking and feeling was pointless and out of line.

He and Jazz had worked closely for vorns and he knew that Jazz wasn't that type of bot. Sure he was a prankster, when he wanted to be, but that was all a part of who the other mech was. He was light-sparked, always trying to help those he was close to.

And that's what he had always been trying to do for Prowl. He had always been trying to get close, to get the tactician to let him in because despite all of Prowl's attempts to hide what he was feeling, Jazz had always been able to read him, had always known for the most part what the other was hiding and trying not to let show.

This whole thing, this whole trick, had been Jazz's way of getting Prowl to lighten up, to actually let himself feel for once, to let someone get close to him; and the realization caught Prowl off guard, so much so that his anger dissolved into confusion.

Why did he care so much?

Prowl had never let anyone get close. He had those he considered friends, sure, but even they weren't allowed to know everything about him. Prowl stayed closed off, not wanting weaknesses that could be used against him, not wanting to let himself get distracted as some many of the other Autobots let themselves get; but despite all of that, there had always been two bots that had ignored his attempts to push them away and had always been right there.

Optimus and Jazz.

And now Jazz had gone to a new level in his attempts at getting Prowl to let him in, and it had definitely worked, at least in one way. He had definitely gotten closer to the tactician than any other bot before, but that was it, right? They had interfaced and that was all; no lasting effects of any sort.

A shudder ran through Prowl's frame as he realized that was far from the truth, and it scared him.

For so long he had kept his emotions closed off, kept them buried so he could perform his functions properly and perfectly; but now he could feel them. He could feel something bubbling, something that for all he knew, had been there for ages, and he had just refused to acknowledge it. Something that was connected to Jazz, that was there because of the other mech; a sense of compassion, a sense of desire.

All of it was making Prowl's processor ache and another rush of air escaped his vents; his entire frame froze as the bot on the berth behind him shifted. He waited, scanners going wild as he tried to determine whether or not the other was coming online; he wasn't, and slowly the tactician relaxed. His hands rested in his lap now, digits absently curling and uncurling, his spark pulsing a bit as the emotions it had not been able to really grasp came into its reach. Prowl winced slightly, a defeated look briefly overtaking his faceplate before it disappeared. He slowly rose.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't.

At least..not yet.

Moving around the berth the tactician started for the door as his usual mask fell into place, but a soft pang in his spark made him hesitate. He stood for a long moment facing the doors and not moving before he turned, optics once more on Jazz. Something was urging him to act in a way that he was not willing to act, but he was unable to stop his peds as they moved of their own free will, (at least that's what Prowl told himself) taking him once more to the side of the berth. His right hand twitched, digits curling, and he reached out, stroking the backs of his digits over Jazz's cheekplate. There was a look on the saboteur's faceplate, an air about him that made Prowl's spark flutter a bit, that made him almost want to lay back down beside the other.

But he knew better.

One last impulse got the best of him; Prowl leaned down as gently and quietly as he could, and brushed his lips over Jazz's helm. As soon as the act was complete, he was at the door again, unlocking it and letting himself out.

The door slid shut just as Jazz's optics unshuttered, faint confusion marring his expression as he tried to brush off the haze of recharge, staring at the door as his scanners informed him he was alone.

"Prowl..."


End file.
